


Why? - Reader x Various!Creepypasta

by Cloud_Watcher



Category: Creepypasta - Fandom
Genre: Amnesia, Amnesiac Character, Amnesiac Reader, Angst, Bisexual Character, Break Up, Creepypasta, Disturbing Themes, Eventual Smut, F/F, F/M, Fluff, Gen, Heavy Angst, Horror, Light Angst, Love, Making Out, Mild Smut, My First Smut, Queer Character, Queer Themes, Romance, Sadness, Suggestive Themes, a whole lot of gay
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-21
Updated: 2019-01-08
Packaged: 2019-09-24 07:40:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,341
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17096585
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cloud_Watcher/pseuds/Cloud_Watcher
Summary: (Y/n) has never been very good at keeping her emotions in check, over the years she's certainly gotten better, but sometimes, that noise in her head gets the better of her. And somehow, it's taken her here, smack dab in the middle of the forest.This story deals with dark themes, and at points, possibly even sexual themes. I do warn everyone to read it at your own caution, and if it ever begins to be too much, then please leave the story. This is a Creepypasta Fanfic, so there will be violence, and plenty of death. I'll be sure to put any more warnings as the story progresses.





	1. The Noise - Chapter One

It's been six years and every day you feel like you're falling further and further, like Alice down the rabbit hole, but in this version, she can't wait till she goes splat when she lands. You almost feel like laughing at that, as you place another folded article of clothing into the box. The TV's on, though you're not paying much attention to it, it provides a lovely background, instead of hearing the noises in your head. It's on the news channel though, so every once in a while, you'll check up on the screen, seeing if anything particularly exciting has happened. And so far, the usual. 

Your back to folding clothes again, every once in a while looking anxiously around at the room, or up at the TV. Your apartment room is almost blank, except for a few boxes stacked up on each other, some clothes, and a bottle of red nail polish on your desk. 

A few hours drone by, and you're sat at your desk, looking blankly at your hands. You'd be moving out tomorrow. Or, you would, you'd probably leave your stuff behind. The silence in your room is thick, and you feel almost suffocated in it. Tapping your fingers against your desk, you try to calm yourself. The noise in your head is too loud, and you can't hear the TV anymore. You're going to die, you think to yourself, right here and right now. 

Then silence.

Brring! Brring! 

You rush to grab your phone, hesitant to answer for a second. "Hello?"

"(Y/n), babe, it's me." Oh, right, your friend.

"Sorry, sorry, didn't read who was calling."

"You still on for tomorrow?"

"Of course," you have to stop, trying to remind yourself of what was happening then, what you agreed to, then it clicks. "Yeah, 7, right?"

"You know it, babe."

"Okay, see you then." You'd have to post-pone skipping town. Things never went how you hoped they'd go. 

Placing your phone back on the desk, you glance towards the TV again, the sound entering your head once more. The current news item seemed to pique your interest. The video was of a burned house in a neighborhood you once knew a long time ago. You'd almost forgotten about it, maybe for good reasons. 

You shake your head, finding that your mind had begun another tangent. Looking back to the TV, the story seemed to have a death count to it, at least two dead. You go to grab the remote, and then stood in an uncomfortable silence. Your lights were off, the TV was off, and even with the blowing winds outside, and the rattling windows, the only thing you could hear was the voice in your head again.

It begins as a soft whisper this time, gradually getting louder and louder, it sounds like a million mumbling voices though, you can't make out what any of it is saying. Their screeching in your ears, and you fall, silence devouring you again. 

'Kill me.' The only voice you could ever quite hear. Its voice growls like a dog or a wild beast, ready to attack at the snap of a finger. You'd be out of town though, so you can't comply to the voice, no, you WON'T comply. You begin to move all the boxes in your room towards the front door. 

You would be leaving town tomorrow to escape the voice and the inevitable hurt and pain you feared you might cause. You didn't plan on taking any of your belongings, but you hoped when they found your body, they'd give everything away. 

You sit down on the floor, leaning against your bed. The murmuring voices taunt you with ideas again, and just like always, you're just about ready to claw your face. Anything to get the noise to stop. Your gaze quickly finds the only thing still laying on your desk, the bottle of red polish. Part of you wants to throw it at a wall, or drink it, but you need to at least get through today, you could be reckless tomorrow.   
You gnaw feverishly on your fingertips, keeping a close and calm eye on the polish. Reminding yourself, again and again, not to give in to the voices.


	2. Red Polish - Chapter Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The story continues...

The hours ticked by slowly, the only noise was the frequent pitter patter of feet across the carpet. The sounds in (Y/n)'s head had stopped, for an amount of time that made her worried, the voices had never been gone for this long before. To keep herself calm, she found herself pacing around her apartment. It kept her eased for only an hour or so, though.

Then it was back on the floor, gnawing at her fingertips. Several times throughout the evening, she'd notice the ever familiar metallic taste of blood enter her mouth. She'd get up, go to the bathroom, and then remember that she had everything packed away. Since she couldn't clean up her hands much, she just stood in the bathroom, unmoving for minutes at a time. Then it was back on the floor, gnawing at her fingertips.

She was anxious to hear the noise again, as much as she hated it, she felt helpless without it. It was the only thing constant in her life and the only thing that seemed, almost, right. Picking herself up from the floor, she wobbles over to her desk, taking a hesitant seat in front of the mirror. 

Her shaking hands find their way to the bottle of red polish. With a few twists, the cap is off, and the pungent smell is released. She dips the brush in a few times, attempting to calm her shaky hands and erratic breathing. Taking it out, she begins to paint her nails, a failing attempt to cover her ugly and worn fingers. A sharp hiss escapes her mouth, as some of the red polish enters her fresh cuts. She quickly runs to the bathroom sink, and washes it out. 

(Y/n) waits back at the desk for her hands to dry. She picked her phone from her pocket, somehow forgetting to pack it away or throw it out. Checking to see how long it had been, a sudden yawn escapes her, as the time reads: 1:03 am.

1:03 am repeats in her head. Her breath quickens, and maybe it's the smell of the nail polish or the fact that (Y/n) hasn't had anything to drink in almost a day, but she can feel a headache coming on, and it's making her feel crazy. What's worse, the noise in her head, or this headache? She can't think, and she feels just about as helpless as she does with the noise, as without it. 

She stumbles off her chair, making large, awkward steps to the kitchen. She turns on the faucet and watches the water drain down the sink, she stands there for a few minutes, and then suddenly throws her head in to get a drink of water. This only works for a minute or two though, as her splitting headache just seems to get worse and worse. 

She almost found herself hoping for the noise to come back, and then just like that, as if it were never gone in the first place, it was. Except for this time, it doesn't sound like voices, more like screechy sirens. The more (Y/n) fights against it though, the louder it seems to get. She notices her vision gets just a little blurrier and a little darker, every time it gets louder. Soon, she doesn't even think she can tell where she is. She can't tell up from down, or down from sideways, or any other direction. 

The sound continues ringing out, as she finds herself stumbling back to her bedroom. When she finally arrives at what she thinks is her bedroom, she begins to feel around for the doorknob, taking several frantic minutes to find it. Upon opening the door, she barely makes it to her bed, before passing out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the shorter chapter! I'm excited to be sharing this new chapter with everyone, I know it must seem like forever since I've updated last, but I have a somewhat loose update schedule that I plan to stay by. I'll be uploading 1-2 new chapters each month, since I do have other works of writing that I will be trying to get out at the same time. With that said, I hope everyone is enjoying this story so far and I would love to hear anyone's thoughts on it! Till next time - Cloud


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